


The Hard Part

by TechnicolorVocab01



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-19 11:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnicolorVocab01/pseuds/TechnicolorVocab01
Summary: Maybe any youkai that had been touched by this kind little human would go just as far---and further, and further---getting sucked up in the irresistible pull all humans seemed to have, this human more than others. So, as long as Natsume still needed them, they would be there; all of them. It was a curse that Madara, along with hundreds upon thousands of others, had been under since Reiko still walked this plane of existence.Before Natsume Takashi, it was Natsume Reiko. And no matter how hard he tried, Madara couldn't leave them behind. When Natsume learns something that changes their relationship forever, Nyanko-sensei finds that the being a bodyguard is easy. At least compared to being family.





	1. The Easy Part

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea that has been in the back of my mind for a while now, and after watching the first episode of Natsume Yuujinchou season 6, I decided it was about time to get it down in writing! I hope everyone enjoys, but if you have any concerns, don't be afraid comment!

“Stupid, stupid Natsume, always getting involved with the small fries,” Nyanko trotted up to the teenager’s side from where he was still on the ground recovering from his coughing fit, arms spread to either side of his head and his throat bared and bruised. The youkai always went for his throat, the voice that could be used for _so much more_ than what he was using it for now. “That tiny little thing wasn’t worth your time.”

Said thing glared up at him in all its three-inch glory, not backing down at Nyanko’s returning growl, ignoring the cat and patting a miniscule hand on Natsume’s cheek. “Are you okay, Natsume-sama? Are you hurt bad? I’ve heard humans get injured very easily, and that rude youkai grabbed you really roughly, and you fell really far! Are you going to die?!”

Natsume slowly sat up, not opening his eyes, probably not wanting to look Nyanko in the face. The cat harrumphed. Still sulking from earlier. Well, that was fine by him! Let the little human pout and give his life away for the sake of all the midget youkai out there. All the sooner for him to get the Book of Friends.

But when all Natsume did was turn his head up to the sky before finally opening those slitted, golden eyes, so similar to Reiko’s, and gently pat the little youkai’s uncovered head, not speaking at all, Nyanko let himself ponder a little, teeny-tiny, even-smaller-than-the-runt-Natsume-had-just-saved bit on his prey’s well-being. It wouldn’t look good if a weak being, like the one Madara had scared off earlier with his light, killed his property, after all.

Nyanko sniffed at Natsume’s hands, the sensitive, delicate skin red and irritated but intact from his mad scramble to grab onto a tree and break his fall. The action had been unnecessary, because Madara in his full form had been ready to catch him on the way down, but it had shaken the already wavering leaves off the branch and into his blond hair. There was dirt smudged on his cheek, in the curve of his nose, and under his fingernails. Nyanko wondered how this would be explained to the meddlesome friends and ridiculously (thankfully) invested couple that had shoved their way into Natsume’s life as he studied the ring of bruises around his neck that were turning an impressive shade of purple, but also nothing the human hadn’t lived through before. 

_(Maybe, maybe,_ maybe _, that bothered me a bit more than it should have. Maybe.)_

The weakling, a flower youkai by the look of it, grabbed the hand rubbing its head and briefly nuzzled into the fingers, mindful of the aggravated rashes. It swiftly released the limb again, embarrassed and bowing very low to hide its obvious blush. “Thank you very much for saving me. Are you sure that you’ll be alright on the way back to your dwelling? It took your _bodyguard_ a while to get here, maybe I should escort you. It’s the least I can do.” 

Its beady, dark eyes hardened into a heated glower in Nyanko’s direction, making its completely _unnecessary_ opinion quite clear about how Madara did his job. He bristled at the implication that this puny being thought it could protect anything, much less this more-trouble-than-it’s-worth human.

_(No one could protect Natsume like I could. Sometimes, it felt like even_ I _wasn’t enough. It_ may have _felt just a bit more absolutely unacceptable than it should have.)_

Normally, this sort of argument with this sort of creature wouldn’t be worth his time, but there was something about this youkai that made Nyanko feel rankled and offended and _insignificant_. 

_(He_ may have felt _a bit more deserving of it than he should have. May have.)_

He let some of his power sneak into his voice, giving it an echoing rumble. “Stupid little weakling, you couldn’t even keep yourself safe. How could you expect to protect _my_ prey better than me?”

It appeared cowed for only a moment, taking a step back, before the thing’s flower collar poofed up in agitation and it climbed up to stand on Natsume’s head---who was busy doing calming, slightly helpless motions with his hands trying to settle them down---making itself appear bigger and making its stance in this argument clear. Typical tactics of a youkai squaring off. “Well at least I was here with him! What kind of bodyguard are you, only arriving after Natsume-sama got hurt?!”

_(It’s just how it happened more often than not. A lot of the time, not even the great Madara-sama could keep up with the dazzling whirlwind of contradictions and will-power and complete idiocy that was mankind. It scared me more than it should have. It always had, even before Natsume Takashi came along.)_

“The only reason he got hurt was because he was covering for your weakness, idiot! If you had been stronger, he wouldn’t have had to save you!”

_(That was a bit of a lie. Natsume always found a way to get himself hurt, the youkai he saved along the way were just excuses of that. It_ may _have worried me more than it should have, the boy’s seemingly insatiable urge to put himself in harm's way.)_

The youkai still refused to back down, straightening even more and slim, blue petals poofing further up, and Nyanko wondered just how Natsume had made such a huge impression on the thing that it was willing to go so _far_.

_(But maybe any youkai that had been touched by this kind little human would go just as far---and further, and further---getting sucked up in the irresistible pull all humans seemed to have, this human more than others. So, as long as Natsume still needed them, they would be there; all of them. It was a curse that myself, along with hundreds upon thousands of others, had been under since Reiko still walked this plane of existence.)_

“Hey,” Natsume spoke up, finally, then carefully---and gently, always gently---took the flower youkai from his head. He smiled with a warmth that could melt solid ice, a smile he gave out without hesitation to those who needed reassurance or to those precious few that he allowed himself to love completely with all of his heart and soul.

_(I hadn’t realized how much I had missed it, that smile. I hadn’t seen it directly in awhile, not since that day.)_

“Thank you for the offer. It’s okay, though. You’ve been really brave, but I can get home on my own,” It didn’t escape Nyanko’s notice that he wasn’t inserted into that equation. ‘On my own’ is what he had said. Nyanko harrumphed again and averted his eyes.

_(It_ may have _hurt a bit more than it should have.)_

The flower youkai was set tenderly back onto the ground, finally rendered silent.

_(Not by my intimidation, or that larger youkai’s bloodlust, but in the face of the sheer force behind a single human’s kindness. Maybe it was because it was_ this _human, in particular. The Natsume’s had always seemed to have a knack for charisma.)_

Natsume got to his feet, stumbling only a little, then stretched, wincing only a little. “I’m sorry. I wish I could stay longer, but I have to go now. It’s going to rain soon.”

He didn’t even glance to the sky, probably having noticed the clouds coming in while the two youkai had been in the middle of their spat. Natsume looked around a little before setting his sights on the messanger bag that had fallen in a nearby tree, hanging by the strap on one of its branches and easy to find through the sparse, colorful leaves that were on the cusp of falling. It was a good ten feet above his head---from what Nyanko had seen, it was probably there from the ayakashi’s earlier manhandling of Natsume into the sky, when the kid had stepped stupidly _(bravely)_ between it and the little flower youkai, refusing to leave and ‘ _mind his own business_ ’. His stubby human hands couldn’t reach far enough to even brush the edges of the fabric.

_(I hadn’t even thought about it before then. The Book of Friends was in that bag. Making sure it was safe_ may have been _a bit less urgent than it should have.)_

Nyanko didn’t even have to shift to his other form in order to climb the tree and slide the package down, letting it fall into Natsume’s slightly scratched up, skinny twig arms.

_(Because, in the end, there was no safer place for it. I know that much now, at least.)_

Natsume checked inside to make sure the Book was still there, sighing in relief and slinging the bag over one shoulder. He quickly, clumsily, turned his back to Nyanko, murmuring a meek, quiet, “Thank you,” so different from the way he usually addressed his bodyguard, normally all barbs and banter and more-than-surprisingly strong punches.

_(So similar to the way I saw him interacting with those humans, the ones he stayed with before. I didn’t realize it quite as specifically then, but it_ may have felt _a bit more disheartening than it should have.)_

Turning back to where the tiny little runt of a youkai still stood, Natsume waved and called out a quick, “Bye!” before going to walk back down the path, out of the woods and towards home while straightening out his dirt-ridden shirt that had probably been white before and muttering about how Touko-san would be upset seeing Natsume come home so dirty. For the third time that week. 

He only got a few steps in before Nyanko rushed after him---falling down the last half of his descent from the tree instead of climbing---and only a few more after that when the youkai cried, “Wait!” and caught up to them with surprising agility---maybe not so surprising, the little ones had to be fast to survive---and grabbing onto Natsume’s leg, wrapping tiny arms around it and squeezing.

“Kiku,” The youkai said it firmly from between clenched, determined teeth, and Madara could feel the power behind the words ripple in the air around them. “My name is Kiku,” It hugged the human’s leg a bit tighter. “So if you ever need me, just call, okay?!”

It seemed hopelessly self-conscious, not even looking up from the forest floor, but if it had, it would have seen another one of those sun-charged smiles following up his prior surprised expression, lighting up Natsume’s visage and softening the edges of his deceivingly sharp, golden eyes. “Alright. I will. See you later.”

The youkai finally let them go, watching in silence as they walked up the path back to home.

Natsume didn’t speak to him, or glance at him, or stop once, even after it started raining and they both got soaked and the weak human was shivering, Nyanko noticing the beginning smears of a rosey red color flushing his face as they finally arrived at the familiar front door.

Natsume sighed, a sound that abruptly turned into a quick, wheezing cough, then straightened up the collar of his wet shirt to hide the four-fingered handprint-shaped contusions circling his neck, leaving no visible evidence of his assault with the dirt and leaf-bits having been washed away by the rain. He plastered that ugly and picture-perfect and utterly fake smile on his face, pushing his way into the house, intoning, “I’m home,” sounding very tired. Worn-out.

_(Miserable.)_

And as the human woman hurried to greet him with, “Welcome home, Takashi-kun!” which soon transformed into a worried, “Oh, you’re soaking wet! You must be cold, let me get you a towel…”, Natsume’s smile curving into something a bit more genuine but his eyes easing into something sad and disappointed, Nyanko knew his charge would be sick by sunrise the next day.

_(And that was the easy part, the knowing and the ailments that could be cured within a few days. But there was more to humans, especially this one, than just an outside hurt. That was the hard part. The part I wasn’t ready for.)_


	2. So Emotional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsume tries to understand. Nyanko is no help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for the positive response, and here's chapter 2! Nyanko-sensei should really learn how to confront his problems... but where's the fun in that! Enjoy!

Natsume had been sitting in front of his desk for a long time, staring down at its surface where a worn book laid, an inanimate object that couldn’t move or speak or attack, and yet was also the most dangerous thing in the room.

_(Wrong~)_

His fingers played carefully along the edges of the hard front cover, tracing the lines of the ink spelling out the word ‘Friends’ while the other hand fanned through the sheets in quick succession. It was hard to tell exactly how many pages were left after all the name-returning Natsume did almost everyday of his short little life, but, even though Nyanko knew the names lost were numerous, it seemed as if the number of pages was never-ending, the width and volume of the book never getting smaller.

Usually after returning a name, Natsume would immediately face-plant into the floor---maybe his futon, if the youkai had decided to make its demands at night or during the late evening---and either rest his eyes or pass out for a while because his pathetic human body was too weak to be constantly using so much spiritual energy.

_(He would never listen to me when I told him that it would be in both of our best interests to stop returning names. He wouldn’t even think it, lost in his sense of misplaced responsibility to finish what Reiko had started and drowning in his need to not allow anyone feel forgotten for any longer than they already had. I think I might just respect him for that, now. You know._ Maybe. _)_

This time around, though, he had just slumped the slightest bit, enduring the excessive thanks from the excitable youkai with as much grace as he was capable of---which was actually an impressive amount, as admittedly and annoyingly tolerant as he was---but the minute the spirit flew back out the window whence it came, Natsume had been hugging the book to his chest as he curled up on the floor with a sigh, so different a position compared to the exhausted sprawl he normally adopted.

Nyanko masked his vague unease with a disgruntled sound, sniffing in a pompous way suited to his current form. “Ehhh, stupid Natsume. The Book of Friends is getting thinner by the day! There won’t be anything left for me if you keep this up! Why do you even bother?”

Natsume gave him an unusually heated glare from behind the curtain of hair over his face in response to the common teasing, but his voice only sounded tired when he mumbled the typical answer, “It’s my responsibility, as Reiko’s grandson.” 

(Why did anything even faintly complicated or emotional have to revolve around her? Always. Sometimes I wish that Natsume didn’t have to live with so immense and infamous a shadow following him around. It just called for trouble. And that was more work for me, of course.)

Nyanko expected him to leave it at that, like always, but then Natsume slowly sat up to set the book down on his desk, hesitating a second before adding an unexpected and prodding, “They don’t deserve to wait for someone who isn’t coming. To linger around for Reiko any longer. No one deserves that,” He gazes at Nyanko expectantly. There was a beat of silence.

_(I knew what he was waiting for, what he was giving an opening for me to say. I should have just given him what he wanted. My ignoring of the situation at hand cost everyone something, in the end.)_

“Hmph! Well, _you_ make me wait for food all the time! What’s the difference?”

The solemn, weighty moment was neatly ended with all the delicacy of a runaway freight train. Natsume had looked at him sadly for a second longer, processing his bodyguard’s words. Then a deceptively fragile hand clenched into a fist, the sadness transforming into something sharper and hotter for an instant. Madara prepared himself for the seemingly inevitable un-Natsume-like explosion, because Natsume hadn’t really been himself since around a week ago; maybe a brief release would _finally_ make him get over the revelation that had come to light on that day.

_(I should have known better. Natsume would never allow himself to be ‘selfish’ and heal at someone else’s expense. I think it was part of why he was so emotionally closed off all the time, scared that any relapse in control would result in him hurting someone. I could never really relate. Still can’t relate.)_

Ultimately, all the human had done was _fwump_ down in front of his desk, staring at his most important (and treasured) inheritance like it could answer all his questions, even though Madara was right there and curing Natsume’s ignorance was part of his job.

_(Except, apparently, when I was too afraid to.)_

Natsume was being boring, lost in his thoughts, so Nyanko had almost drifted off to sleep when the other occupant of the room started to talk quietly, flipping the sheets of the Book of Friends almost reverently. 

_(Respectfully.)_

“I never really understood why my grandmother never went back for these spirits,” Thin fingers traced over some of the black scribbles across one of the pages.

“She was lonely, _so_ lonely, and yet she never revisited the familiar youkai she had already met. She went out and found new ones instead, filling this book with pages upon pages of friends that she could call anytime she wanted or needed to.” 

Natsume sighed, sounding like he was tired or frustrated or sad, or some crazy-human combination of all three.

_(It was always so hard to tell back then. Natsume never made reading him---or befriending him, or caring about him---easy, even for those who truly, truly wanted to. Because, before, opening himself up had accomplished nothing but scars stretching all the way from his heart to his back. I knew; I’d seen them before. Reiko’s scars had been similar.)_

Natsume chewed on his lip. “And I guess, maybe, that’s all she really wanted; that secure feeling that if you needed them, you had friends that would be there for you,” He paused, perhaps to gather his thoughts, bending forward, eyes gradually shadowed by his bangs. When he continued, his voice was harder, firmer, more frustrated than before with his eyebrows scrunched together, just like when he was having trouble with a particularly evasive homework answer. “But she never let herself get attached, to stay long enough to _get_ attached. No youkai I’ve talked to has ever claimed to see her twice, and she usually only stayed long enough to win their precious name before leaving and never returning. She _never got attached. Ever._ That’s what I thought---the _one_ thing I thought I knew about her, for sure…”

His sentence drifted off slowly, and his grip on the book in his hands tightened until it shook. He raggedly whispered, “So, I’d always thought it was odd, the fact that she had a child. A fact that didn’t quite line up with the rest of what I knew about her. What was so different about you, Nyanko-sensei? How was it--- _why_ did she decide to---”

Nyanko primly sat up from where he was curled up on a cushion, stretching with a stuttering yawn before trotting to the still-open window. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”

He hopped out into the cold night air, Natsume making no move to stop him and being left behind in a stifling hush. Madara tried to get his breathing and heart rate back under control. That was probably the reason his chest felt so tight and burned in an unfamiliar way.

_(It wasn’t_ really _all that foreign of an experience. I’d felt that pain in my chest in quick, staccato flares many times throughout those months I’d spent with Natsume. Whenever a youkai spoke of Reiko in a venomous tone, or in an awed reverent one. Whenever I looked at the boy who was Reiko’s son’s son and could only see a relic of the past that I would never be able regain, even with all my strength and might…)_

Nyanko found he couldn’t go any further. His physical form was heavy, like it was weighed down by something he couldn’t see or sense or fight. It was an impressive feat. There weren’t many things in this world that could hold down the great Madara. He could only name two---

He determinedly didn’t stop to think about infuriating, powerful, beautiful humans, too busy turning into an alleyway to huddle away from the biting winter winds. Nyanko simmered for a while, clouds gradually travelling across the sky to soon reveal the moon, washing the world in a pale glow. His voice started working on its own.

“Stupid Natsume, stupid questions, stupid Reiko and her _stupid_ decis---” He cut his own grumbling off with a disgruntled huff and closed his eyes, wanting to feel frustrated or angry or sad. But all he seemed to have the energy for was tiredness. “… so pointless…” 

The night went silent. 

_(...because the one thing that humans could never seem to escape from was death.)_

That’s why his attention was easily drawn by the faint, muffled sounds of shouting, eyes finding a window just across the way, where two humans were in each other’s faces and arms moving in jerky, furious movements. Fighting. Madara could only outlines through the drawn shades, but one was much taller than the other, and both voices were female. 

They were likely mother and daughter, fighting about something about as significant as their puny lives. As he watched, the smaller figure yelled something indecipherable, maybe just a wordless scream of frustration, and stomped away. The older voice screamed something after it before slumping, shoulders heaving with heavy breaths, and all alone. 

_(For youkai, though, it was a bit different…)_

Neither Madara nor the mother moved for a while. It’s not like he had anything to do. He was just passing the time, that’s all. His eyes were still annoyingly glued to the shaded window. The slouched shadow had since set her face into her hands, shoulders now shaking with what the youkai could only assume were sobs.

_(The one thing we could never seem to break free of…)_

A minute or an hour later, the other figure entered the frame once again, and Nyanko watched as the girl and mother reunited, hugged, probably apologized to each other through their tears. At this point, Nyanko recognized that he could no longer see two people. Their embrace had turned their separate shadows into one. He finally forced himself to look away, huffing. 

Humans, always so emotional.


End file.
